


Harmonies of Subjective Truth

by Zippit



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Community: Towerparty, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-19 23:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7381765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zippit/pseuds/Zippit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a starless night and Maria is waiting on two phone calls. One from the supposedly dead Nick Fury and one from Natasha Romanoff, newly minted as one of the world's most wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harmonies of Subjective Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Vague spoilers for Civil War and compliant with some aspects of canon and not others.
> 
> **Prompter:** [](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Port)[](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Port)**Port**  
>  **Prompt:** On a starless night
> 
> Written for the June Lightning Round - Minor Characters at [towerparty](http://towerparty.livejournal.com)

It’s half past midnight as Maria glances at the clock. There’s only the light of the city peeking through her apartment blinds. The stars are hidden behind clouds. More likely drowned out by the city’s vibrancy. If she went outside, she might catch a glimpse but the view isn’t the same. It hasn’t been the same since she moved. Stark Industries pays quite handsomely but starting over and rebuilding a life, an identity, out of the ashes of SHIELD meant moving on from the past. That had been a bitch of a move. A life she hadn’t realized she’d packed into her apartment had shifted to this one.

The location was functionally secure in case anyone important needed to drop in. Namely the two people she was awaiting phone calls from. She sighs and leans back into the soft material of her armchair. It was an eye searing red that Natasha had raised an eyebrow at the first time she’d seen it. Her apartment was a riot of color and the red wasn’t even out of place. The drab solidness of work had no need to follow her home. She smiles as Liho hops up on the arm beside her, arching her back for the caresses Maria happily provides. The low content purr fills the silence and Maria glances at the clock again. Barely any time has passed.

Her job was never done but this aspect of waiting for confirmation of…something she’d thought she’d put behind her. Because being in close proximity to Stark had its perks. Like her phone having the latest and greatest Stark encryption in addition to Natasha’s digital locksmithing and access to a wide array of satellite feeds, intel, and surveillance resources. She shouldn’t have needed to be waiting for anything. Of course, that all went out the window when it came to these two people in question: Nick Fury and Natasha Romanoff.

She clears her throat and reaches for the cold glass of water beside her. Allergies. How being in the city where there was barely any green left could rile them up like this she didn’t know. The stench of cars and garbage left out in the sun too long drowned out the fresh clean smell of anything growing. The slow slide of coolness eases the itch and also makes her long for the warming burn of a shot of something stronger lingering on her tongue like comfort.

Liho floats into her lap to curl into a content little ball with her tail shadowing her nose. “Well, at least one of us is getting some rest,” she murmurs.

She strokes a hand down the cat’s back and wishes her owner would hurry up. It’s unfair. For all she knows, Natasha’s in the middle of a firefight and has much more important things on her mind than checking in. That doesn’t explain the conspicuous lack of contact from Fury. Normally, she’d bet Fury was yelling at Stark for springing this on the Avengers with no warning while back door negotiating everything else for months. There was no good in that now.

The Avengers were split. Half incarcerated in the Raft, which was unlikely to last long if she knew Steve, and the other half arrayed beside Stark in support of the Accords. That man and his guilt complex….

Her cell buzzes on the table beside her glass and Maria snatches it up before it stops. It’s a number she doesn’t recognize. She hits connect and snaps out “Hill.”

“Still no word?”

It’s Melinda May. She sags, her posture relaxing, and closes her eyes. “No, nothing yet.”

There’s a long pause. They’re both thinking the same thing. From what little footage had escaped carnage of the showdown in Germany, one thing had been clear: Natasha had switched sides. Her last terse message had simply said: “ _Flying solo. Barton’s out of retirement_ ” and been sent from Stark Tower while they regrouped and awaited news on Rhodes.

She’d signed the Accords in a show of support for Stark for reasons that weren’t clear to Maria. Natasha never did anything without giving serious thought to all the angles so when Maria saw her again she was going to get that story. She’d broken the agreement and gone to ground.

Melinda finally speaks again. “Keep me updated.”

“You know I will.”

“She’s as indestructible as they come.”

“You mean like our super soldier?” Maria stifles a grin. “Maybe I’ll give Steve a call. See if he’s heard from her.”

“I’ll bet you $50 she shows up at his side before this is all over,” Melinda cackles back at her.

“$100 and you’re on. What if he shows up at her side?”

“Same difference.” 

They share a laugh. It was obvious to Maria and Melinda and probably anyone with a pair of eyes but the two in question. They just needed to get out of their own way and take that last step. A hard shove was likely to be needed before that happened. It was a brief moment of brightness in this mess. Their friends scattered to the wind, divided and injured. No certainty left aside from the fact they would all persevere.

Melinda’s voice is warm with amusement as she says, “Coulson sends his regards and a head shake at the chaos his favorite assassins have managed to land themselves in.”

“He has no one to blame but himself for that. Barton was his first pet project then Barton pulled in Romanoff as _his_ pet project. No one in their right mind could’ve predicted that.”

“Nope, and it’s driven him to drink many a time. But I should let you go. Get some rest, Maria.”

The line clicks off. She puts the phone back on the table and gazes into the dimness of her living room. It’s a starless night and only the beginning.


End file.
